


Evermore Free

by codychangretta



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't Like Don't Read, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Simple as that, Spoilers, Supernatural Elements, Time Travel, but only somewhat considering the whole canon divergence thing, god why do i feel like i forgot some characters, just absolute self indulgent twaddle of the highest order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 21:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18710224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codychangretta/pseuds/codychangretta
Summary: One moment I'm on a train, headed into town to celebrate Halloween with some friends. Then a strange man appears.Next thing I know I'm in the old west-1899 to be exact-and with a gang of cowboys. Three of whom are irritatingly hot.





	Evermore Free

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by me wanting to live my best fanfic life and recently getting into red dead and thirsting majorly over dutch, arthur, and john. this is largely for my own amusement tbh. again, don't like don't read.

_Is it in the seeking that we find, or in the finding that we seek? While this might seem a pathway towards insanity, it's an important distinction, and also a clear one. He who finds things is wise, but he who who continues to seek is evermore free._

_-_ Evelyn Miller

 

* * *

As the train trundled down the tracks into town, I smoothed down the skirt of my dress, meticulously picking at any stray bits of fluff that happened to stick to the silk, partly because I wanted to look as perfect as possible, and partly out of anxiety. It had been a while since I'd last gone out, and my nerves were making me more self conscious than usual. In theory, I knew I didn't have any reason to be nervous. I was just going out with friends to the Ivy for Halloween, just like I had done last year and the year before that. We all knew the Ivy, we were more or less regulars there, and it was one of the few bars in town where I didn't have to constantly be on my guard. But I still drummed my fingernails against the thigh that was exposed by the slit in my dress, doing my best to suppress the urge to dig my nails into the skin, and looked down at my lap at the dress again.

It truly was a beautiful dress, made of fine silk in a deep red just a few shades shy of oxblood. The skirt was far longer than what I usually wore, going all the way down to my ankles, but the slit on the left that went from my ankle to just below the thigh, so that you would get a glimpse of the suspenders holding up my thigh high tights, if you were lucky, did lend itself to my usual style and I thought it was a nice compromise. The bodice was tightly cinched (to the point that I could've gone without a corset but I wore one anyway), and intricately detailed with pearls to resemble lace, with the pearls themselves leading into actual white lace that lined the low, squared out neckline and into the capped sleeves.  The whole concept of the dress, and indeed the whole look, had been 'Late Victorian, But Make It Sexy', and everything had come together to make it absolutely perfect. From the laced up boots that looked like they really were from the period (and were hell to find), to the choker with three layers of pearls, and the pearl drop earrings, I truly did feel like the young mistress of a wealthy businessman who I may or may not be planning to kill in order to acquire all his wealth before moving onto his even more wealthy friend. Not the most morally sound of fantasies, but it was entertaining.

"Cody Smith."

I jumped, instinctively pulling my hands up to my face as I looked up to see who had spoken. It was a man, who I didn't recognize, with a black handlebar mustache, wearing an immaculately tailored black suit and top hat. I blinked up at him, trying to slow down my heart rate.

"Uh, sorry, do I know you?"

"No, but I know you."

Utterly perplexed, I watched as the man sat down in the empty seat next to me, staring ahead vacantly.

After a brief but excruciatingly awkward pause, I cleared my throat. "How-how do you know me?" My heart was racing and I glanced around, feeling a chill run down my spine when I saw that no one else was in the train car.

"That's not important." The strange man turned to me, looking me up and down. "You look nice."

My face flushed, and I made myself smile congenially. "Thank you, so do you."

The man didn't respond.

As we sat in a silence that was more painful than any I had ever experienced, the train entered a tunnel, which only served to heighten my nerves, as I became more aware of just how horror movie-esque this was.

"I'm afraid you won't be going out with your friends tonight."

I felt my blood turn to ice. I turned to face the man again, but he was still looking straight ahead, hands folded in his lap. I swallowed deeply and clenched my fists. "If you touch me I'll-"

"I know."

My threat died on my tongue and I was left with my mouth hanging half open.

Finally the man turned to face me, and seemed...apologetic. Somehow that made everything worse. "You're an intriguing case." He said, in an almost clinical fashion that didn't match the emotion on his face. "I can hardly think of what to do with you. But, it seems you might have decided for me." His eyes slowly trailed over me, from my boots, to the bottom of the dress, to the choker. And all the while I could feel my face flushing redder and redder.

He reached out and, to my surprise, very gently patted my hand.

I stared at him, only dimly aware of the fact that the train car we were in was approaching the end of the tunnel. "I don't..." I trailed off, not sure as to how I should end my sentence.

The man shook his head. "No. You don't."

Then. The train car filled with light.

* * *

When I woke up, everything was dim.

Once I had gotten my bearings a little, I noticed that I was on some kind of cot, the kind I had seen in old paintings of dead and dying soldiers. I slowly sat up, bringing my hands to my head to cradle it in an attempt to ease the throbbing I felt. When I looked through my fingers, I saw grass. I frowned. Since when does Wellington have this much grass?

Still somewhat woozy, but newly determined, I rose to my feet, and only then did I notice that I was in a tent. But it seemed old, really old, as it was made from canvas and the frame looked like it was made from wood. Now more confused than I have ever been in my entire life, I stumbled out of the very rustic tent and into the dazzling sunlight.

I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the light and my other senses adjusted to suddenly being thrust outside. As my vision cleared up and the throbbing in my head calmed down, I saw that I was on some kind of communal campsite, with what surely must've been twenty something people milling around. And as I became aware of them, they became equally aware of me, until all of them were staring at me and I was left to gaze at them all.

Usually I rather enjoy being the center of attention, but since I was in a strange place with strange people, and not knowing how in the world I got there, my usual vanity had been completely replaced by anxiety. But despite that, I noticed that all of them were dressed strangely, but in a way that was oddly familiar.

"Well, it appears our guest is awake."

A man standing in front of a large, canvas tent not too far away made his way over to me. He was very handsome, in that Distinguished Older Man kind of way as that was what he looked like. Thick black hair with matching mustache, a white shirt with black pinstripes, well tailored black pants, and a gentle but firm air of authority and confidence. If I hadn't been so anxious in the moment, I probably would've gone straight into Flirty Mode.

"How are you feeling miss?"

I frowned up at the man and glanced at the other people, trying to gauge their reactions. This earned me a chuckle from the man.

"Don't worry about them miss, they won't hurt you." He held out his hand. "Dutch Van Der Linde."

With no small amount of hesitation, I took Dutch's hand and shook it, still looking around and marveling at how rustic everything was, from the tents to the fire with a pot of something cooking on it, to the horses that were hitched to a post just a few meters away. If nothing else, I could appreciate the dedication to the aesthetic. "Cody Smith."

Dutch smiled widely. "Good to meet you Miss Smith." He took his hand away and attempted to put it on the small of my back, but I instinctively flinched and took a step away. To Dutch's credit, he held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Apologies miss." He said, and he sounded like he meant it. "Please, come with me."

Tentatively, I followed Dutch to a large table, where another older man was sitting, and reading a newspaper. While he had the same air of authority to him as Dutch, he seemed gentler, possibly because of how grey his hair was. "My associate, Hosea Matthews."

Hosea smiled kindly, putting down the paper. "Happy to see you've made such a quick recovery."

I nodded, and nervously returned the smile. "Thank-" my eyes fell on the newspaper, specifically the year printed at the top, and I nearly choked on my next word. "-you."

1899.

There it was, in big bold black lettering. I looked back around the campsite, and realized why the clothing everyone was wearing seemed so familiar. It was all from the same time period my own outfit was pulled from, with a few of the outfits resembling drawings and photos I had spent hours staring at, to get an idea as to what I wanted my dress to look like.

It wasn't an aesthetic. It was real.

The face of the strange man on the train suddenly came back to me, as did his words.  _"I'm afraid you won't be going out with your friends tonight."_

Well. Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my blog lucacangettathisass.tumblr.com and my self ship blog mrschangrettaships.tumblr.com! kudos and comments are always appreciated!


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